


The World Could Be Ours, Tonight

by AnthemInMyTveit (SoWrongItsLottie)



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Charity Is A Literal Queen, Circus Family, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, My First Work in This Fandom, Period-Typical Asylums, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Slavery, Phillip's Parents Are Jerks, Phineas Is The Father Everyone Needs, poor Anne, poor phillip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-04-29 21:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14481423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoWrongItsLottie/pseuds/AnthemInMyTveit
Summary: In a society where families are divided by Higher and Lower classes, there's no guarantee they would remain separated. When socialite son, Phillip Carlyle, runs into Southern runaway, Anne Wheeler, he is struck with the realization that there's not much difference between them... apart from the color of their skin and the mass wealth that the Carlyle name brings. Deciding for himself about how he should be living his life and choosing the people he wishes to be associated with, he takes the leap and, much to his parents disapproval, starts to learn more about Anne and the life that she leads... even going as far as meeting her adoptive family, former high society associate, Charity Hallett and her outcast husband, Phineas Taylor Barnum.





	The World Could Be Ours, Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my friends, the long awaited first chapter, well... at least the first half, when I looked at the word count I thought that it may be best to split this chapter into two halves (please note that not all the chapters will be mega long, but if they are then I'll do a split like this. I also have the majority of this story typed up (in fact, chapter ten is completely finished) and I can assure you that there will be a lot of drama, a little romance and a good ol' sing-a-long within the upcoming chapters. I hope you all enjoy! Kudos, Comments & Subscriptions are all very much appreciated :)  
> \- _AnthemInMyTveit_

  
  


Phillip Carlyle knocks back the shot of Whiskey in one swift gulp before slamming the glass down on the varnished counter. He motions for the bartender to pour him another, the gesture an unspoken confirmation to keep them coming as he rests his forehead in the palm of his hand.

 

For the third time in as many days, Phillip had managed to find his way back to this bar, his fingers twitching with the need to have a glass in his shaking grasp and his lips tingling for the fresh taste of alcohol to grace both his breath and his lips. A part of him wishes that he had a better reason for these frequent visitations, but the only reason he has whilst in this barely sober state, is that it gets him away from his overbearing parents. They would never dare step foot in a place like this, which Phillip guesses is why he likes it so much. But, it wasn’t just his parents he was trying to get away from, it was also the majority of the high-class singles whom his parents had conveniently invited round for dinner and champagne, and on a day they knew he was meant to call in before heading to the Theatre for another run of his rehearsals.

 

 _It’s like they think I can’t find my own dates…_ Phillip thinks miserably as he downs another shot.

 

But, with every second the words dance through his mind, the more he ends up believing them. If anything, Phillip can see that his parents are desperate. He can see that they’re hoping he’ll end up falling for one of the many ladies they’ve selected for him, after all, in the society in which they live, status is everything and time was running out for them to be grandparents at a decent age; they’re not getting any younger. But, inviting women round to their estate… it’s ridiculous. Phillip can see what they’re doing, and he doesn’t appreciate it. He can smell the ‘Carlyle Etiquette Test’ a mile off, and he loathes it with an utter passion. The test? To put it simply, the ‘Etiquette’ test is what Phillip’s parents created to put forward to any possible suitors that was looking to marry into the family. It was a series of scenarios and questions that would give his parents a chance to assess how the lady of choice interacts with Phillip and how she addresses both Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle whilst in social circumstances. Thinking back, it was actually the Etiquette test which had scared off the first woman Phillip thought he could actually enjoy spending his life with; one uncomfortable question too many and she headed straight out the front door. Phillip didn’t blame her though. If he had the chance, he would do the exact same thing without sparing a single glance back at the place he couldn’t quite allow himself to call ‘home’.

 

As much as he wants to run, Phillip knows that the only way that he can lead a stress-free life with his parents is to just suck up his pride and go along with their ludicrous attempt at match-making. When life gives you lemons, the only logical thing to do is make lemonade, and as it so happens, Phillip has a rule that he follows for situations such as these and that’s to keep the small talk down to the absolute bare minimum. The reason for this rule is to prevent the woman of the hour from thinking that he had even the slightest amount of interest in them. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt any of their feelings; he was raised to be a gentleman after all, but looking at each of the women in turn, all he could really say about his parent’ choices for him… bleh… there is literally no other word polite enough to describe them.

 

 _Haven’t they realized by now that I’m not interested in finding a partner who shares the same lifestyle that I have been brought up to know?_ He thinks bitterly as he picks up another glass of the smooth amber liquid and knocks it back just as quickly as the first; no longer phased by the slight burn as it goes down. _Is it simply too much to ask for – to want – something… else?_

 

Phillip already knows the answer before he’s finished asking it, and just like he knows that tonight won’t appear to be an exception to the previous two nights. His Mother had practically ambushed him as he was about to get ready for the premiere of his newest play. When he had asked her what she was doing, she casually brushed off his question and told him to not spend too long after the show before coming home as there was some people he needed to meet back at the estate. Phillip should have seen that coming, but as he opened his mouth to express his reluctance at being shown off like some show pony, his Mother then emphasized that whether he likes it or not, he will be making an appearance (he made sure to roll his eyes at that part when her back was turned). Before she left to run a few errands for Mr. Carlyle, she even had the audacity to tell him that he should wear the suit he usually reserves for momentous occasions, and taking it one step further, how he should style his hair for the evening. As good as her intentions were, that was a sentiment that he was not going to be taking on board, not tonight.

 

 _I’m a grown man whose Mother still takes pleasure in controlling what clothes I wear… and yet she wonders why I prefer to turn down the women she deems appropriate for me to date,_ Phillip groans as his head slips from the palm of his hand and on to the counter before him.

 

Thankfully, before Phillip can get any deeper into his inner monologue and start thinking of comebacks and excuses, the bartender puts another drink down on the counter before he makes a start on wiping down the counter, clearing up the empty peanut shells that Phillip had scattered in front of him. Phillip slowly looks up at the bartender through bleary, unfocused eyes, his mind trying to remember his name but coming up blank. Instead, he pushes his swaying body so that he’s sitting straight and picks up the glass with a smile, silently toasting the man before him. He didn’t quite get the chance to drink… one second, he was navigating the glass from the air towards his lips, the next thing he knows, he’s being hauled off the stool he had been sat for the past few hours by a very disgruntled looking man who was wearing a vest, slacks and a pageboy style hat. Judging from the way he had shoved Phillip, he knew this wasn’t going to be good, but that didn’t stop his mouth.

 

“May I… *hic*… help you?” Phillip slurs slightly, his eyebrows furrowing at the stranger. He could feel the trickle of liquid as it runs down his shirts sleeve and looks down at the empty remains of what was a full glass of Whiskey a second prior. “You just wasted a perfectly fine drink!”

 

“And you’ve been wasting my precious time!” The man rebuttals, his tone sharp. “Your carriage has been waiting for the past thirty minutes!”

 

“My… carriage?” Phillip repeats slowly, his confusion ebbing away his frustration at the spilt drink.

 

“Yeah, your carriage. Are you deaf as well as drunk?” The man sneers, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

 

At the man’s words, Phillip looks blearily towards the bartender for some form of help, not wanting to be alone in an altercation with the stranger, but the man simply shrugs and shakes his head before he carries on cleaning the counter top of remaining remnants of alcohol and peanuts. Letting out a sigh, Phillip places the empty glass onto the counter. Patting himself down, he finds the pocket holding the money and slides a couple of crisp bills towards the bartender before collecting his top hat and scarf from the stool beside him. As he turns back to the man who had interrupted his peaceful drink, Phillip straightens his own vest top and stares the man as steadily in the eye as he could manage.

 

“I am not deaf, nor am I completely drunk. I am however, the man who will be paying to feed the children and the mistress that are waiting for you at home, so unless you want to see them starve, you will show me some respect by going back out to your horses and wait for my arrival.” Phillip states calmly as he casually places the bright red scarf around his neck, top hat still in his hands. “Do I make myself clear, Sir?”

 

The man glowers at Phillip for a moment too long before unfolding his arms and muttering, “Yes, Sir.”

 

“Good. Now, if you wouldn’t mind being so kind, I appear to be running late.”

 

-x-

 

The carriage to his parents’ estate wasn’t exactly the smoothest of rides, but at least he made it there in one piece.

 

As the carriage rolls to a stop, Phillip was more than a little sure that the driver was disappointed at the fact that Phillip didn’t get thrown out the open window when he stepped down out of the carriage and into view, but he was happy enough once Phillip paid him. He also added a few dollars more to the total by way of an apology for keeping the driver waiting outside the bar and for pulling out his Father’s ‘money is power’ card in order to stand the man down from the altercation that was bound to occur the longer they stayed inside the warmth of the bar.

 

 _I’m not like my Father; I’m a gentleman after all,_ Phillip points out as he watches the carriage pull away.

 

Once the sounds of hooves were far enough away from the looming estate, Phillip starts to make his ascent to the front entrance. From where he stood, he could just make out the soft melody of a guitar, and he was stunned. If there’s music playing inside, then perhaps this won’t be like the previous nights after all. He may have just gotten a little drunk for nothing, unless… no, his parents wouldn’t stoop as low as actually setting the ‘mood’, would they? Phillip doesn’t have time to dwell on the matter as the large oak doors swing open, the bright light of the foyer temporarily blinding him as he raises a hand to shield his eyes. Blinking, he makes out the form of one of his Mother’s aides, Miss Pearl.

 

“Mr. Carlyle.” Miss Pearl greets him with a low bow. “The rest of your party is waiting for you in the West Ballroom.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Pearl.” Phillip nods, tipping his hat to her. “Might I say you’re looking lovely this evening.”

 

“Thank you, Sir, charming as always, I see.” Miss Pearl smiles as a blush colors her cheeks, before she shuts the front door behind him.

 

“So… tell me, how many women have my parents invited tonight?” Phillip asks casually as he fixes the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

 

“Actually…” Miss Pearl starts, voice trailing off as a door opens down the hallway, the music getting louder as it drifts towards the foyer. Letting out a low breath, she straightens her apron and holds out her arms as she asks, “May I take your hat and coat to the cloakroom?”

 

Phillip doesn’t miss the way Miss Pearl brushed off his question or how she flinches ever so slightly at the sound of the ballroom doors opening, he can understand why she’s worried; if his Mother caught her interacting with him like this, it would be bad news, so he doesn’t dare call her out, instead he puts on his best smile and says in a confident tone, “That’s quite alright, Miss Pearl, I don’t plan on staying long.”

 

Appearing visibly relaxed at his response, Miss Pearl bows to him once more before she hurries off towards the staff living quarters.

 

As Phillip watches her go, he takes a second to let out a breath, straighten his waistcoat and turn towards the ballroom.

 

 _Well, looks like it’s time to face the music_ , he thinks as he strolls across the foyer.

 

Inside the ballroom, there was a large number of people gathered around what Phillip could only assume was the dancing area, it was hard to tell over the heads of so many people, but he was sure he caught glimpses of a waltz here and there. Just to the left of the dancing couples, Phillip found the source of the music he had heard upon his arrival. What he originally thought was a soft guitar melody, turned out to be a haunting violin serenade which filled the ballroom and could barely be heard above the happy chatter of the gathered crowd. Phillip managed to catch snippets of conversation as he passed in search of his parents, but with the volume if was hard for him to focus on just one voice.

 

That is until…

 

“Here’s to another successful night!” Mr. Carlyle calls out over the music as he raises his glass of champagne into the air.

 

The people surrounding him let out cheers of agreement as they clinked their glasses together.

 

Phillip lets out a small breath as he runs his fingers through his hair. He was thankful that he had managed to locate one of his parents sooner rather than later in the evening, as once they see that he’s done what they’ve asked by making an appearance, he can slip out the next time they get caught up in conversation with one of their friends. There is no way that he’s staying at this thing longer than he has to. He was about to start scanning the room for his Mother when his Father noticed that he was standing a few feet from his party of followers.

 

“Ah! Talk about good timing, here’s my boy now!” Mr. Carlyle speaks up, gesturing for Phillip to join him.

 

Letting out a deflated sigh, Phillip grabs hold of a champagne flute from a passing waiter and makes his way over to where his Father stood.

 

“Phillip, I would like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Evans – they’re great admirers of your plays and also potential clients for the business.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Phillip answers graciously, his mind already switching to auto-pilot.

 

Phillip has been to enough of his Father’s functions growing up, to know exactly what to say and how to act around his investors. Just like he also knew what the price would be if he made a fool of his parents in front of anyone, and it wasn’t pretty. He still has scars from the time he… Phillip shakes his head, now is not the time or the place to take a trip down memory lane, so instead he plasters on his best ‘fake’ smile.

 

“Please, the pleasure is all ours; it’s an honor to meet you, at last.” Mr. Evans smiles, hand gripping Phillip’s in a firm shake. “Your Father was just telling us about your latest play and how quickly it sold out. You will have to let me know when tickets become available again. Myself and my wife were left in complete awe with _**September’s Justice**_ – absolutely phenomenal work, and from a young man as well. Inspiring.”

 

“Thank you… it’s already refreshing to hear good feedback.” Phillip states, his tone humble as he stares down into his glass.

 

“It’s a shame that Mr. Bennett didn’t feel the same way… I mean, even our daughter was fascinated with the plot and characters.”

 

Phillip’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second as he started to realize why he had be called over, but surely...

 

“Phillip, did you know that Mr. Evan’s daughter is single, and she’s currently looking to settle down with-“

 

And there it is… the reason.

 

Phillip knew this was where the conversation was going and he needed to say something before it can go any further.

 

He can’t keep going through this every time he saw his parents.

 

_Here goes nothing._

 

“Let me stop you right there, Father.” Phillip interjects, holding the hand that was free of the champagne glass up in front of him. “Tonight, is about your new business acquisitions, not my lack of a love life. I know how much you want me to find some lovely lady and settle down with her and provide you with grandchildren, but it’s not going to happen if you keep forcing women onto me” Phillip takes a breath before turning to face the couple before him, shocked expressions written across their faces. “Mr. Evans… Mrs. Evans… I’m sure that your daughter is a delightful young woman, but I’m really not looking to settle down with anyone, let alone the relative to one of my Father’s business partners.”

 

As he takes in a breath, Phillip could feel his Father’s gaze on him, watching him with a steely, but Phillip doesn’t look back round at him. He can’t. As much as he should feel proud for sticking up for himself and putting his foot down on his Father’s decision to set him up with the Evans’ daughter, he knows that he’s just acted out in an unorthodox manner in front of potentially important people for the business, but he couldn’t carry on without saying something. He couldn’t, and now he has to pay the price.

 

Oh, how he wishes he had found his Mother first.

 

There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a few seconds before his Father stepped forward and took a firm hold on Phillip’s arm.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans, may you please excuse us, I just need a quick work with my son.” Mr. Carlyle states, tone steady as he leads Phillip out.

 

With every step they make through the chattering crowds, Phillip can feel his heart beating wildly against the cavity of his chest, and the rush of fear that was spiking through his veins was met with the perspiration running down his face as he realizes that he pushed it too far. He should have just kept his mouth shut and went along with his Father’s ludicrous match-making, but no… maybe he could blame his behavior on the alcohol, but he knows where that would land him, and he couldn’t even bare to think of the word, let alone say it.

 

As they reach the entrance to the ballroom, his Father wretches the door open and pushes Phillip out in front of him.

 

“How dare you.” Mr. Carlyle seethes as the door clicks shut behind him.

 

His tone was low and Phillip can only assume so it’s not to be heard by his Father’s guests.

 

Still, those three words managed to get a rise out of Phillip as he pushes the fear to the back of his mind.

 

“How dare I? Are you being serious right now? Father, you can’t keep doing this! Inviting women around for dinner is one thing, but using your business functions to push investors daughters on me, that’s crossing the line.” Phillip lets out a breath as he paces a few steps, his hands running wildly through his disheveled locks. “When are you going to realize that I’m not interested in being set up with women who you and Mother deem proper? In case it slipped your mind, I can find my own dates, I don’t need your help in setting things up; at least when I actually land a date, I know that I’ll actually like spending time with them, and I don’t-“

 

Phillip’s tirade is cut short as his Father’s palm collides with the side of his face, the crack of skin against skin stunning him as he stumbles. He clasps at his cheek, his eyes watering from the force and felt his cheek start to throb. He took a second before straightening back up.

 

“You ungrateful little boy.” His Father spat, raising his open palm again.

 

Phillip visibly flinched but no contact was made.

 

Instead, his Father turned and started to head back to the ballroom, his shoulders set high as he straightens his tailcoat.

 

“Stay out of my sight.” Mr. Carlyle orders before slipping back into the busy atmosphere.

 

From the corner of his eye, Phillip notices that Miss Pearl was standing a few feet to his feet, hand covering her mouth in shock at the scene she had just witnessed. As she went to make a step towards him, Phillip holds his hand up and shakes his head. He knew he shouldn’t have come tonight, he knew in the back of his mind that it would have been a ruse for another blind date, but he couldn’t let his parent’s down. Letting out a steady breath, Phillip turns and makes his way towards his old study; he really needs something stronger to drink.


End file.
